Snook - 10 Unspeakable TRUE Scary Stories

Episode Date: January 18, 2026

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Hey, what's up guys, and welcome back to some more scary stories, and today we've got an exciting video for you. 10, unspeakable true scary stories, and like the title says, these will all be true stories. So that makes me even more scary, and I hope you enjoy. And thanks for stopping by. I appreciate you all watching. And before we get into the video, please like the video and subscribe to the channel. It's a channel's goal to be at 500,000 subscribers.

So please subscribe to the channel. Helps out a ton. And yeah, like I said, thanks for being here. and without further ado, let's get into 10 unspeakable, true scary stories. How's your dad? I saw him yesterday. My dad was out of town for months. Back when I was 12, I went to a private school, so I needed to take a long walk to my apartment. Since the school was a bit far from the city center, this was in Zagreb, Croatia,

so I had a lot of public transport options to get home. My usual routine was to get on the bus at the station in front of my school all the way down to the Main Street, then take a tram to a public park, and walk home the rest of the way. Our school had a double timetable where one week we went to school in the morning, and the other week we had classes in the afternoon. This happened during one of my afternoon weeks. I was walking out with a few classmates since we all got on the same bus to the main street. The rest of my classmates were picked up by their parents. When you got in the bus, there were a few empty seats, so I took a seat in front of a balding, middle-aged man who was wearing slightly dirty clothes.

That was my mistake. As soon as I sat down, he started staring at me, like staring with a cold look in his eyes. Feeling uncomfortable, I took a book out of my bag and started reading. I would have used my phone if I could, but it was dead since I forgot to charge it before I left the house that day. The guy did not stop staring at me the whole bus ride, to the point where I couldn't even concentrate on my book, but I refused to put it down because I was scared. I'd have mentioned something to my classmates, but we were all spread out on the bus, but I was too scared to move. I don't know why, but I didn't want him to see that I was scared, thinking that maybe that would deter him,

or maybe I thought he was just staring at me for some stupid reason. When we finally got to our stop, my classmates and I all got off, and some of us headed to the tram station, while the others walked away to their houses. The guy who was staring at me also got off with us, and he started trailing us while keeping a fair distance. I told all my friends about this, but urged him not to look back, thinking ignoring him would be the best option. When we got to the station, different people got on different tram, since each of them had a different route. I needed to take the tram number two, and so did my friend. We waited for it to arrive, and the guy was somewhere to our right, but we refused to look at him.

When our tram arrived, my friend and I got on, but so did the creepy guy. When I arrived at my stop, I tried to quietly discuss with my friend if getting off with me just in case was a good idea. But then we saw the guy get off himself first and start heading into the park, opposite of where I needed to go. He probably overheard us talking since there were barely any people in the tram at the time. It was around 9 p.m. But I didn't think of that, so I thought it had all been a misunderstanding. When I got off and the tram had sped away to the next station, I started walking home. It was a short distance and would have taken up me about five minutes, but then I noticed someone following me.

I immediately knew it was the same guy again, so I picked up my pace and walked to my apartment. As I turned a corner into the alley that housed my apartment, the guy was getting closer. I got to the building and buzzed my mom on the intercom. I wish she would have hurried up, but in the end, the guy managed to catch up with me. I could smell the stench coming off from him as he started talking. Hey, how've you been, buddy? I saw your dad yesterday, and he told me all about how you were getting on in that new school of yours, he said. And then I immediately knew that he was lying, since.

my dad had been away on work-related business for months and had him returned home in that time once. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood there quietly staring at him. Just then, the door buzzed and unlocked, so I bolted for it. I managed to rush in and start running up the stairs, but he was falling behind me running himself. Never in my life have I felt such an adrenaline rush as I ran up the stairs to the third floor, and I had a backpack with books weighing me down, so I had a disadvantage. But in the end, I managed to arrive at the door, where my mom was happily waiting for me. With no warning, I shoved her away from the door as I entered before slamming it shut.

Fortunately, the guy had enough common sense not to continue chasing after me. I told my mom what happened and she called the police and they arrived sometime later. Questioning me on how that guy looked and what exactly happened. In the end, they looked at the camera footage, but since it was so dark out and I didn't turn the indoor building lights as I entered, they weren't able to get a clear view of his face. For two weeks, I was too scared to go home alone, so my mom picked me up every time until two weeks later. When on the news, it was said how a man was arrested for attempted kidnapping and R-wording of children. And the face they showed was the exact one I saw that night. So I finally breathed

a sigh of relief, knowing I was safe now. But that didn't excuse the fact that I was careless with not charging my phone, and there were still many bad people out there. Everyone, please stay safe out there. To the person who I met, if you ever get released for some ungodly reason, I hope I never see your face again. Scary childhood story with me and my sister. I might have been around 11 at the time, and it was only my sister and I still living at home by then. My dad worked overnight a lot, and that night it was just us in the house. I remember it was very dumb. dark, so maybe we had went to bed less than an hour before this happened. All of a sudden, I heard someone ruffling what sounded like Christmas wrapping paper or loud plastic, maybe even tinfoil.

You could hear the way they were going through it and tearing it, etc. Then I heard my sister call out my name from her room across the hall and shout, stop. She sounded angry, and I remember exactly what I felt and thought when I replied. I yelled back, that's not me. Literally, as I was completing my reply, a flood of fear and confusion went through my mind. I knew my sister and the anger I heard in her voice was because it was scaring her too, even though she probably did think it was me. So once I said it wasn't me, I could feel the intense increase in fear that we both felt. It was very scary, and it stopped as soon as we started talking about it. My sister had another scary story from around that time, give her take a few years. She was reading a book in the living

room while I was outside plane and she would hear someone tapping on the wall and every time she looked up to see what it was the tapping stopped. I don't remember us ever talking about that night again, but for a period of time after that, I requested to sleep in her bed because I was scared. The time a raging customer stalked me in his truck. I, 24F, at the time was 21 female. I lived in a larger small city in the Midwest. At the time I had no car. A. I was a woman. I was a bicycle and hardly enough money for the public buses. I worked at a retail battery, lighting, and repair store. I worked full time and only lived a little over a mile for my job. Since I was a female in a male-dominated field, I was often used to targeted abuse for men that thought they

knew better. Many times I stood my ground and flaunted my knowledge and subjects that these men couldn't grasp. Because of my willingness to learn and my close proximity to work, I often worked all sorts of hours, mostly by myself. This time I wasn't the person closing and had a co-worker, Joey, who was 22, who came in for a part-time shift after he wrapped up classes at the local college. We had a close friendship, and we often stood up for each other and stood in when we were flustered or needed to go to the bathroom in the back. Joey received a phone call for a possible repair on a smartphone, possibly LG, low-tier phone though, and he wasn't 100% sure if it was a phone that we could repair. He asked the young female call her to stop by for a consult. She had quickly

agreed and said that she would stop by at around 5.30 p.m. This was a night that I was supposed to get done at 6 p.m. and catch the bus at 6.12. It was a windy, drizzly early fall night. I remember this because I had my bike with and it became my anchor that night. A little before 6 p.m., this frantic, terrified, bawling 19 to 20-something-year-old woman came into her tiny shop. I was at the counter, switching out aging price tags and general store maintenance. I looked up at her, confused and willing to help. She looked me deep in the eyes, asking if Joey was here. At the time, he was pooping in our tiny bathroom in the back, so I had to step in and help out any customers. I told her that he was currently busy and that I was willing to help her. She handed me her

smashed cheap phone very timidly. My customer service skills couldn't prepare me for what she was going to say next. She quietly told me that her boyfriend, who was out in his red minot truck in the small front parking lot, had gotten angry and smashed her phone when she tried to call her sister that afternoon. I took the backing off the phone and tried to research the model for any possible screen repair. No results found. I tried to hand her back the destroyed phone and she pushed it back in my hands with a pleading look. Then the honking commenced. There was a slight drizzle outside, so our front glass door was covered in beated drops and was slightly fogged over. I couldn't see who was honking out there.

I told her again that I couldn't help and for her to try her cell phone repair competitor down the road. The tears started to really float on her cheeks and I was freaked out at this point. She kept throwing glances behind her and the honking would not stop. I shook with fear and rage at this point. I myself was in a domestic abuse situation at the time and knew what this girl was experiencing. I broke my locked stare at her and tried to look in our system a second time for a replacement screen. Nothing again. I looked up from our computer and saw a shadowy figure of a young man pacing in front of the store.

I was just happy that the honking stopped, but I was increasingly shooken up. My whole body vibrated with fear. And I whispered across the counter if she needed me to call 911. She slammed her hands down on the counter and said that I couldn't do that. She begged me not to. At this point, Joey came out from the back and asked, me what all the honking was from. We had a lot of elderly farmers, lazy, and disabled customers that would honk their horns for us to pick up heavy battery cores from their cars. He thought that

it was one of those situations, but with the looks on our faces, he knew something horrifying was happening. The young guy stopped pacing outside and began banging on our front door. Joey took the girl's phone from my hands and said for me to go in the back and lock the back and employ only doors. I did what I was told, and grabbed my bag, my bike, and my jacket. I looked at the clock in the back and it read 614. I spent 15 minutes with this girl, both of us feeling like trapped animals. Joey did bodybuilding during his free time and was a gentle, non-confronting short but stocky Asian guy. I was a short, obese, kind lady that would respond either of two ways, like a doormat or ready to stand my ground. I knew that I couldn't fight a customer and

neither could Joey, not because of physical reasons we'd lose our jobs and had no idea what to do. The young guy threw the door open, and the wind kept the door open. He had this manic, hateful look about him. A total predator he was. He was slim, but muscular. Early to mid-20s and was soaked by the rain. He took the broken phone off the counter and took the girl in tow. He hurled insults at us, and I gave the girl a pitied look.

He slammed the door back shut and both Joey and I stood in absolute silence. He snapped out of it, and ran to the front door and locked it. I told Joey to call our manager from our store landline and stood around while I did it. I noticed that the guy had moved his truck to directly in front of our door. He was watching us from his truck, watching us behind the counter as we were on the phone with our manager. I had to leave to get home. The last possible bus came at 642 and I couldn't pedal my way home in the weather. And the all of the circumstances that had just occurred.

The time was around 618 and I just needed to cross the busy highway. And down the sidewalk by an eighth of a month. miles of the nearest bus stop. Joey, the guy, and I played the waiting game. It was 623 when the dick had finally left our parking lot. I told Joey that I would leave at 625 so I could arrive at the stop safely. Joey opened the front door and I threw myself on top of my bike and peddled harder than I could have ever imagined. Now mind you, our store was in a industrial shopping area at the very edge of a town. We worked next to a sub shop and worked across from a strip mall with a bullseye store and a local chain grocery store with other retail stores,

and a bank all in that in that large lot. It started to downpour, and as I tried to pull out of our parking lot straddling my bicycle, I caught a glimpse of the red truck, looping around the sub-shop. The highway had dual lanes each way, and I had to play real-life Frogger, if I wanted to make it to my destination in one piece. There was a few cars that slowed for me

as I hauled ass to the other side of the road, I jumped off my bike and threw it on top of the curb. I promptly hop back on and tried to, pedal off. My front wheel was stuck in the grassy strip and my right foot had slipped off into the pedal. My shin struck the pedal and I had to act quickly. I grabbed the frame of my bike and jogged awkwardly to the bus stop. The red truck pulled into the bank parking lot of which I had just passed. The truck pulled around and went through the entrance across from the shop and took the closest lane to me. He went at a crawl and turned at the red light so we could circle the main parking lot

of the shopping center. There was three ways to get into that parking lot. One of the left, one in the center, slightly off to the right across the sub shop, and the other far to the right next to the grocery store. I stuck to the sidewalk since it felt safer and was in front of people. The truck patrolled the parking lot, the hunter stalked in its prey. I felt cold, sore, and concerned, just like an injured animal. There was a couple of cars that pulled into the left entrance of the parking lot, causing the truck to stop from re-entering the lot again. I almost collapsed in the shitty small bus stop, and I felt my phone buzz.

I saw that I read Joey, so I rested my bike on my person to answer the call. Joey told me that he was watching, and even though he had an elderly couple in the store that he was helping, that he wouldn't allow the guy to hurt me. I started to cry. All of this had just gotten to me. The red truck looped around once again, and again.

I saw the bus pull up early at 639, and I couldn't be happier. I knew the driver, since I used the buses to get around town, errand shopping, and to get to and from work. I had my stupid fucking bike to worry about. I hung up the phone with Joey, put in my phone in my jacket pocket, and strapped down my bike in the rack that was in front of the bus. I struggled since I shook, and my bike was slick from the rain. I got on the bus and turned to the open the bus doors

and saw that the truck took a left at the center entrance of the lot. I could finally let my guard down. I sat at the front of the bus, and my hands shook, had trying to get the 1-25 for the fare. The driver said that it was okay, and that I could take my time with the change. I kept my backpack on and pulled my damp phone from my pocket, dialing Joey's number, letting him know that I was fine. In under 15 minutes, I made it to my apartment safe, but deeply disturbed. I took my bike in, so I wouldn't draw any attention to where I lived.

All of this gave me an idea to leave my own domestic abuse situation. A few months later, when COVID took the world by storm, to this day, I wonder about that girl and hope that somebody more daring and stronger than me called the cops on her abuser, that she had the strength to leave that violent man for her to write her own story and to recover from all of that. I'm currently doing significantly better in life and finally have my own car, and I live a couple of states away safely from my past life. Even though I'm states away, and it's been three years now, let's not meet. Scariest person I have ever briefly met.

One night, a neighbor I never talked to asked me to help him break into his house. I told him it's 1 a.m. You're being weird. He asked me if he could borrow wrench or hammer. If I don't trust him, I can use them instead. I told him be reasonable. It's 1 a.m. stop acting strange. He left. Two days later, police surrounded his house. He had murdered his father. I reported the event to the police. The murder occurred around the reported time. They were unable to figure out if he wanted to use me as an alibi. We break in and his father was already dead,

or if he had a fight with his dad, broke in and murdered him. Fifteen years later, today I saw workers clean in the house, which reminded me of this whole story. Over the years, the house was completely covered in vegetation. I wonder who owns the house now. It would be weird if he did. Should there be a law if you murder your dad, you can't inherit his property.

Fish Face, the serial stalker. This takes place over the course of a few years, from just before my university freshman year to my junior year. I'm now a 20-year-old female, but at the start of the story, I was 17. For my freshman orientation, my family and I were staying at a hotel across my college campus. Orientation started in the morning, so I wandered over to the campus with my luggage to check into my dorm room for the next few days. I was roomed alone for orientation since I have OCD and sleeping problems and didn't want to bother any potential roommates.

So I put my luggage away and began walking the campus. This entire fiasco started for one reason. I want a breakfast. It was foggy that morning and I had never been on campus. It was a ways away from my hometown so I quickly became turned around. I spotted a group of four people walking toward a building so I swallowed my anxiety and approached them to ask for directions. I should add that I am shy and quiet person. so it took a bit before I piped up and excuse me.

One of the four turned around and my immediate thought was, Oh my God, this guy looks like a fish. He had a big, creepy eyes and fat lips. He was blonde and a little chubby. This is purely for descriptive purposes. I am by no means a model. Still, I stifled my gawking and asked, Do you know where the dining hall is?

Oh yeah. It's right here. He motioned to the building directly behind. us. Oh, wow, I'm dumb. I laughed. There was a small pause before he asked, You here alone? As someone who has run into predatory people before, this question never, ever sits well with me. My family will be here later. We all have sleeping problems, so they're catching up on sleep. They'll be here at six. This wasn't a lie, but I hoped it would deter him from latching onto me. Oh, well, do you want to sit with us? I guess that

he had met the group of four he was with, but the other three had already disappeared in the dining hall. Sure, I conceded. I immediately grabbed a two-person table, which made me internally grown. I had a feeling of where this was going, and I wanted no part of it. I'm a lesbian, for Christ's sake. I don't want to risk making him angry. I don't want someone to hate me before the school year even started, so I sat down with him in a plate of eggs. I tried to make conversation, and he kept replying dryly with things like, oh, uh-huh. And, mm-hmm. I thought that I had upset fish face, so I looked up from my plate to see him staring directly at my breasts. I am a 36-D, so unfortunately, news to this. I sighed and

bagged out my sweater on my chest. Even after this, in my slouching, he kept staring. After this, I didn't want anything to do with him, but I wasn't so lucky. Everywhere I went, he followed. Even in our orientation events were separate. I repeatedly tried to slip away from him before increasingly creeped out by his attempts at flirting, but everywhere I went, there was FishFace. I gave it one last try, slipping away to the library. That's when the messages started. Somehow, FishFace found my Snapchat. I guess that he searched my name. He kept messaging things like, Where are you? Where did you go? I'm at X location, knowing that he could see that I'd read them. I felt obligated to respond. Okay, I'll be there soon.

This didn't stop with orientation. The beginning of my freshman year was marred with Fish Face encounters. Classes, trips to the store, student activities, it didn't matter. He was there, shadowing me. The constant messaging drove me to just delete my Snapchat. Thank Christ, he never got my phone number. At this point, Fish Face was incessantly hitting on me and reminded me of how much he liked me, despite numerous times of me stating that I'm not interested.

When I made myself clear, it only seemed to make him push harder. as if he thought I was playing games with him. It became more and more common for him to put his arm around me, or try to hold my hand. This is where I drew the line. I told him, Clear's day, I am not interested in you.

I do not like men. Do not touch me. He pouted but relented, touching me, at least. The shadowing only got worse, to the point that I couldn't leave without my roommate. I couldn't get a single dorm for the actual school year. I became more exhausted,

paranoid, and felt like he was a time bomb waiting to blow. After weeks of this, weeks of sheer anxiety, I spoke to my pre-summer university. The father was deeply concerned and went so far as to walk me back to my dorm. He made me a promise that I would speak to security first thing the next day, which I agreed to. Security's first question was if I was really being stalked or if my anxiety made me believe that I was being stalked. When I cited the witnesses to his shadowing me, that was dropped. Then the question was, was I clear enough with him?

him? I don't know how much clear I could have been. After much back and forth, I managed to get a no-contact order against Fish Face. I knew that a no-contact order only meant that he couldn't contact me and vice versa, rather than physically keeping him away for me. I was okay with this because at this point, I did not want to hurt this guy or to potentially impact his future. For the remainder of the year, there were no more attempts to contact me or be near me. I thought that would be the end of it. But then came sophomore year. I could never be sure. if it was a coincidence or he was actually telling me. But then he started appearing outside of every classroom door, every coffee place, absolutely, everywhere.

I was in a rough place this year, totally unrelated to this, but it certainly didn't help. But due to the sheer emotional exhaustion I was battling, I couldn't give a damn. Okay, follow me. I promise that I'm not that interesting, but this is when I learned of the other victims. Their stories were identical to mine. Six of them, mine being the seventh. They ran into Fishface, a totally innocent encounter, but then he started in on them, bombarding them with messages, following them, groping them, and trying to get them alone.

I was horrified to find out that every one of these girls had reported him to university security. Every one of them was prescribed a no-contact order. Seven victims later, and this bastard was still on campus as if nothing happened. I learned that this was not uncommon for our university, on top of victim blaming. The more I learned, the more deeply my fear ran. It was open season, and these bastards had full protection. We could not do a thing to get the guys like Fish Face off of our campus, and so I resigned myself to being followed by this fucker.

Junior year came around and initially, it seemed that Fish Face had given up. I could not have been more wrong. It was pointed out to me by friends who I knew about this talking, that he was in the background of my every move. Throughout the year, he got closer. and closer until it became worse than I'd ever dealt with before I was a member of campus conservationalists and we were selling reusable grocery bags in lieu of our state banning plastic bags and then after about 45 minutes apiece I glanced to my right he was there just around the corner

staring directly at me ice cold fear ran down my spine and my stomach dropped I tore my gaze away and tried to hide my panic he hadn't been this close to me since freshman year there was no mistaken it. He was here for me and me alone. I texted my girlfriend, letting her know that what was happening. I'll be honest and say that the rest is a blur. I was too panicked to remember how we got back to my dorm safely. I thank God every day for my ultra-protective girlfriend. Just two days after that, he appeared in the hallway outside of my class. It was just reaching the end and I was ready to call it a day. I glanced at my watch. It was 2.45 p.m. I wandered to the bathroom, ignoring fish face lurking in the corner. I did my business and approached the door. It began to open, so I called out,

oh, I got it, and opened it for the next person. Fish Face. I felt my face go pale and my breath hitch. He stared directly at me with those creepy-ass blue eyes. His giant floppy lips pulled into a small smirk before he turned and disappeared down the hall. My heart thumped in my chest as I re-entered the classroom. I felt myself shaking and tried to hide it. All that kept running through my head was, what was he doing? Why was he trying to get in the bathroom?

I glanced down at my watch again and knew that I didn't have time to wait for my girlfriend as the class was minutes from ending. I asked the girl next to me to walk with me to my next class. She agreed without hesitation. She was a really sweet goal to begin with, and thank God for that. I finished my final class of the day,

and sped back to my door. I didn't get much sleep that night. I reported the incidences to security the next morning. I was met with the same pressing questions and doubts. I threw everything I had at them and asked them to watch the security cameras outside of my classroom to see him attempt to corner me in the bathroom. I had to threaten to contact state police before they relented and promised to investigate my claims. They informed me that no action would be taken. They said that they could find no evidence of the incident One question, Fist Fis Face said that him appearing around my classrooms and frequented spots around campus was purely coincidental and he felt so awkward that he was going through this again.

I took my second semester off junior year for unrelated reasons, yet I am relieved to not be on campus with that creep. He is still there. The other victims have mostly transferred to other universities due to the college's general mistreatment and poor administration. I start my senior year this August. At the same university, I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if he's going to step up his game. I listen to enough true crime to know what could happen. It scares me like few things ever have. So fish face, you disgusting motherfucker, let's not meet again.

The worst 12 hours of my life. I've been meaning to pose this here for a while. I wrote my first draft back in April, so it's taking a long time. time, and a lot of therapy for me to be able to think about this experience. I've noticed how many people's stories take place over weeks, months, even years, so I'm here to tell you mine. 12 hours of my life. I managed to block out a lot of memories surrounding this night, but early this year, I was mugged and my PTSD return, as did a lot of the missing memories of those 12 hours. This is the first time I'm telling anyone the full story of what happened to me. I haven't told my partner, my therapist,

my parents. No one knows the details. If there's anything that should be taken away from my story, it's this. Remember that you don't need to be polite to everyone you meet. The setting. In October 2018, I was age 18 in my first year at university in a big city in the UK. I'd always lived in the countryside before this, so was never very street smart. About a year before I went to uni, I had started a relationship with this guy, Jimmy. Now, my first. my ex. It was my first real relationship and I thought the world of him, but it was not reciprocated in a loving and compassionate way. Jimmy started off as a very emotionally abusive and got progressively worse, but that's a whole other story. At this point, Jimmy and I had been together just under a year,

and I applied to universities in the same city, mostly by coincidence, and both moved to the same city. I wanted to have a proper student life, so got an accommodation in a student block on the other side of the city to him. Jimmy had been using drugs for quite a while. Initially started off just smoking weed, but this progressed rapidly. And by the time we were at uni, he was regularly doing a lot of hard drugs plus smoking weed multiple times a day. Honestly, I don't think he was ever not high. When we moved to university, we still saw each other every couple of days. We found a regular drug dealer, Mark, that he had been using continually since we got there in September. Jimmy used to buy for Mark multiple times a week, so on a handful of occasions, I had briefly met him. Mark lived a lot

closer to my student accommodation than to Jimmy, so a couple of weeks before this all happened, Jimmy had started picking up drugs from Mark when he came to see me, meaning Mark would often be outside of my accommodation. Jimmy had asked me a few times if I would pick up the drugs he bought from Mark. But I had always felt weird speaking to Mark on my own, plus I rarely smoked weeds, so I felt very weird picking up drugs in general. 6 p.m. One day at the end of October, Jimmy had plans to come and see me that evening and asked me again if I would pick up some weed from Mark. I was in a good mood that day and feeling more confident than usual, so for the first time I agreed to. Jimmy gave me to Mark's number and said that Mark would message me when he was on his way. Only around 10 minutes later, I got a message from Mark saying that he was nearly outside my apartment and I needed to go outside, so I did. Outside of my accommodation, there was a quieter area with a lot of benches, so I sat and waited for him. Behind me was only a wall in a small contained area that had all of the bins for the building. Out of nowhere, I felt someone's hands on my shoulder in a really weird, creepy way.

I jumped, obviously, and realized it was Mark, who I barely recognized as I had only briefly seen him a couple of times. I realized now that my back had been to the wall in the bin storage, so he must have been waiting there. I was immediately on guard because of how he touched my shoulders, especially because I didn't know him. So shift away from him as he sat down. next to me. He began talking to me as if we were buddies, asking me a million and one questions like deeply personal questions. The whole time I was deflecting, not wanting to give out any information, so started asking him questions instead. He began a really deep monologue about himself and his life, where he openly told me he had just gotten out of prison a few months before.

It was forarmed something, some kind of violent crime. I engaged his ramblings, just nodding along, but still trying to get back to the whole point of just picking up drugs for my boyfriend. 7 p.m. I've always been able to talk to anyone and was always taught to be nice when someone is talking, so I ended up sitting there for around an hour trying to get the conversation back to the reason I was there. Pick up drugs for my boyfriend and go. It was so long, it actually started getting dark. This guy just kept talking. I knew my boyfriend was going to be coming over soon, so I kept looking at my phone to see if he was on his way, but he had it replied. Eventually, I told Mark that I need to get back inside as I was meeting up with my boyfriend soon, and then going clubbing after with some friends, so I needed to get ready.

And could I just please pick up the drugs? He then said, oh, well, I can't give them to you here. There's CCTV everywhere. We can go inside so that I can give them to you. I had witnessed him giving my boyfriend drugs in the same spot countless times before, so I knew this was bullshit. I didn't want Mark to come back to my apartment, so I told him that we could go into the lobby of my building where there was a disabled bathroom, and he could give me to them there.

He agreed and followed me inside. We went into the bathroom. It was a very large bathroom, so I didn't have to be close to him, and he locked the door behind us. He then began fiddling with something in his pocket. I assumed the drugs, but instead pulled down his trousers fully and started peeing into the toilet. I was hugely freaked out.

This guy just presented his dick to me, and he was. began peeing, but I rationalized that there was no way he had any sexual motive because he had met me and my boyfriend together, so knew I was in a relationship. I figured he just really needed to pee. I had just kept my eyes shut the whole time. And when he flushed, I thought that, finally, he would give me the drugs that I was here to collect. This whole thing had been going on for about an hour and a half at this point. He said, I really want to roll myself a joint, but there's no space in here to do it. Can I come and roll it on your desk and then I'll give you Jimmy's stuff? I asked again if he could just give it to me now, and he said no, saying that I was being rude for not inviting him in.

By this point, I was wanting to get ready to go out with my friends later that evening and knew my boyfriend would be coming by any minute, so figured it'd be okay even though I didn't want to do this. It's worth noting that I was emotionally abused by my boyfriend and knew he would be mad at me if I didn't collect his drugs, or if I annoyed Mark because he was his favorite dealer. I honestly figured that Mark was harmless, despite him telling me he was a violent criminal. FML and just assured myself that he was only a bit creepy. It'd be fine. 8 p.m. reluctantly, I took Mark up to my apartment, opened the door and let him in. I said he had to roll his joint fast because I had to get ready. Finally, he gave me the drugs that my boyfriend wanted, so I felt better at that

point. He walked over to my desk, moved all the things to the side and sat down, getting out the things to roll his joint. I cannot roll a joint, but I've seen Jimmy do it countless times, so no, it doesn't take me more than a minute or so. Mark keeps trying to talk to me, but at this point, my answers are getting shorter and shorter. He rolls this joint so slowly I could not even describe it. He then said, well, I can't smoke this outside, so is it cool if I just stay here and smoke it'll only take a five minutes of smoke? I said no, and told him again that I had to get ready. He replied, it's okay, you can get ready with me in here. By this point, I was over it, message my boyfriend again to tell him to hurry up. Mark asked me again, and in my frustration

and wanting this guy out of my apartment, I just said, okay, sure, but be quick. I then went out my room into the shared kitchen. I only had two flatmates, and no one else that was in the apartment that night. Grabbed some wine and a glass so that I could have some solitary prud drinks and return to my room. I sat for another 15 minutes before increasingly less polite, but he kept talking to me. I drank my first glass of wine pretty fast and just decided if Mark was going to take ages, then I would just get ready to go out with my friends. I told him that as soon as he finished smoking, he could just leave on his own. So I left with him, sat at my desk, took some clothes into the bathroom, and jumped into the shower. 9 p.m. Maybe a minute or so into my

shower, I heard some soft footsteps outside the door. And like a scene from a freaking horror movie, I saw the door handle slowly be pushed down. Think fuck I remembered to lock the door. All of a sudden Mark began banging on the door. I turned the shower off and just said, um hi through the door he shouted through the door asking me to let him in because he needed to pee again i obviously said no and just got dried and dressed thankfully i took clothes to the bathroom as fast as i could by this point i figured there was no way he was going to leave my apartment until i did so i did my makeup as fast as i physically could and messaged my friends that i'd be coming to there sooner than i had planned i still hadn't gotten a reply for my boyfriend so i just told him that i was going out early and not to come over i got ready to go

and told Mark that I was leaving now, and he needed to come downstairs with me. He was still sat at my desk and ignored what I was saying. He asked if he could stay in my room while I was out because he was tired and wanted to nap. Finally, I was firm with him, and after a lot of convincing, he left with me. I made sure to order an Uber to my friend's place so that I couldn't try and walk with me, and by the time we got outside, my Uber was nearly there. He stood with me, looking over my shoulder at my phone the whole time. Then the Uber arrived.

I got into it, and Mark straight up. walked around the other side and got in. I was in disbelief and laughed, then told the Uber driver that I didn't know who this guy was, and that he wasn't getting in with me. The Uber driver was not as polite as me and told Mark to get out, and he did. 10 p.m. I sat there on the way to my friend's house and finally felt calm that had gotten away from Mark. I called my friend from the Uber and told her what happened, so she said she would come outside of her building to get me with a group of her flatmates. My friend's accommodation was not far from mine, and took longer to get to by a car than on foot because of the one-way system in the city. But it didn't care at this point.

Maybe 10 to 15 minutes later I arrived and my friend came over to my Uber, then brought me back to her group of friends. She had quite a few people with her, and I suddenly noticed that one of her male flatmates was talking to someone slightly away from the group. I looked over and suddenly realized he was talking to Mark. I guess he was looking at the address when I had the Uber app open earlier. I whispered to my friend, and she freaked out and went inside with me straight away. I was super freaked out that this guy wouldn't just leave me alone. He refused to leave my side for the last few hours and now he had followed me to my friend's house. Honestly, I felt much safer now.

It met a few creeps in my time, so just decided to get over with it by having a nice time with my friends. So we sat in her kitchen having a chat and some drinks. 11 p.m. After a while, talking to her, I almost forgot what had happened just an hour ago. It was getting increasingly tipsy from the wine. The kitchen door opened and her male flatmate comes inside, announcing that he invited a guy in who gave him some free weed. You guessed it, Mark walked in.

Mark addressed me by name and walked over putting his hands around my waist from behind. I get pretty confident when I drink so, had no problem pushing him and him off me and announcing to everyone in a jokey way. Yeah, this is the guy who has been following me around all evening. I don't even know him. Even in this room with all of my friends' flatmates, I still didn't feel safe. He stayed away from me, looking at me for a while from the other side of the kitchen, and I just ignored him.

My friend could tell I was uncomfortable, so we suggested we go for a drink in a room. Around 30 minutes after going into a room, the door slams open suddenly, and Mark is standing there. He says, Oh, I was looking for the bathroom. Can I use yours?

My friend isn't in suit. She tells him to get the fuck out, and he does. I'm honestly just bored of this guy's constant presence at this point, so we decided to just go to the club early. 12 p.m. We grab our stuff, run past the kitchen door, and outside. side. My friend orders an Uber, and we get in and go to the club. After a while, some of her flatmates join us, but Mark does not. Thank fuck. The people who had been in the kitchen said that Mark left

shortly after he saw me and my friend leave, but there was no sign of him now. I just try and enjoy the night, but being a poor student, I can't afford any more drinks at the club. As I begin to sober up, I realize how shaken up and creeped out the whole evening made me, and I don't feel safe. 2 a.m. After only a couple of hours, I decided that I just want to go home and sleep because this whole experience freaked me the fuck out. I'd take an Uber back, use my key card to get into my apartment, go upstairs and into my apartment. I started getting ready for bed, put on some pajamas, and started taking off my makeup. All of a sudden, I heard a loud knock on my door. I had no clue who it was, but since it was still early-ish for a Friday night, I thought my boyfriend maybe finally

decided to show up. My door didn't have a peeple, so I walked to the door in my PJs, unlocked it, planning to open a tiny bit to see who it was, and then bam. The door flew up and so fast that I was pushed backwards into my apartment and then shoved into my room, which was directly across from the front door. In my panic, I froze, then looked up only to realize that Mark was now standing in my apartment. The realization started to sink in. Mark had just forced his way into my room, and I was trapped here with him. He was visibly angry and very high. He locked the door behind him and began rambling about how I was so rude for not inviting him in with my friends, for ignoring him, for not letting me in the Uber, etc. I was terrified. I was

terrified, so ran over to my bed and grabbed my phone. He walked over behind me and began grabbing me, touching me as much as he could, so I shouted at him to get off. He saw my phone in my hand immediately smiled. He told me to open the camera. I was terrified, so I did as he said. And he said he wanted a picture of us together. I did as I was told and took a selfie with him while he posed with his arms around me and then kissing my cheek and my neck. He then screamed at me to unlock my phone so I did. He made me open up my messages and send Jimmy the selfie of me and Mark sat next to each other on the bed. So I did. He waited for it to send and then grab my phone and put it down on the desk. He sat at my desk for the next four to five hours, talking at me

continually, saying how I was so rude, I needed someone to teach me some manners, how I had to do what he said because he was older than me, how Jimmy wasn't good enough for me, how I was so beautiful and how he knew that I needed to be with him. He told me that his girlfriend knew he had been at my house that evening and now she said he can't go home and it was all my fault the whole time i continued bargaining with him trying to get him to leave but it didn't work occasionally i would just lie down on my bed or sit and not speak each time i did he would get up and wrap his arms around me or try and spoon me stroking my face trying to kiss me and trying to take my clothes off and touch me every time i fought him off and he would get angry again and go and sit at the desk and keep shouting i knew that this guy had

previously been in prison for some kind of violent crime, so I did not want to piss him off. I just sat there for hours and quietly sobbed. Too scared of trying to leave because I would have to walk past him to get to the door. I was out of options. I didn't know if I could get out without angering him. I couldn't call the police because he had my phone. My flatmates weren't in, so my screams meant nothing. 6 a.m. While he was at my desk, he kept smoking more weed or taking a line of whatever drug, so he was becoming more and more out of it. He was becoming more sleepy. He was becoming more sleepy as he smoked more weed until I was able to speak between his rambling, so I gently said I was going to the bathroom. I noticed he had his eyes partially closed and I figured

I only had one chance, so I took the opportunity and grabbed my phone off the desk as fast as I could, unlocked the door and ran out the apartment. The one thing I will always remember is being in tears. Pressing the button for the elevator to come probably about 50 times because I was so scared that he was going to come after me. As I got into the elevator, I heard him come out of my apartment, shouting my name, but the elevator doors closed as he looked at me. I was able to get downstairs and out of the building. I ran around the corner of the building in my PJs and maniacally dialed the number for the police, told them what happened, and that this guy had been in prison until recently. The next thing I knew, around five police cars showed up. I was in such a state and called my boyfriend

to tell him what happened. He was still awake and hadn't come to visit the night before because he was with a girl who was a friend and said that he didn't want to come here with me because he said he had some weed on him and didn't want to be near the police. I told him to get to my place right now and he reluctantly did. The aftermath. The police had to force entry to my apartment because Mark had locked himself in and barricaded the door. They arrested him and he ended up going to prison for drug charges but not for what he did slash tried to do to me. The police said they couldn't prosecute him because I had willingly led him into my apartment earlier in the night, and he hadn't physically done anything, essay and attempted R-word, plus holding me hostage in my own apartment,

but okay. After I'd given my statements to the police, I went back inside to sea after I escaped, my room was trashed. Mark had thrown things around and smashed things in anger. I'm so glad I got out when I did because I can't imagine what would have happened if I was trapped in the crossfire. I don't know what happened to Mark after that, but I moved out of that apartment a couple months later, and away from that city as soon as I could when COVID hit, to make sure Mark could never find me. I actually stayed in my abusive relationship for another year or so until I realized that I was too good to put up with Jimmy's shit. I had such severe PTSD from the incident that I couldn't go outside for months after, which messed up the whole of my first year of university.

It is taken until now for me to be able to walk around at night, and being alone in public is still really difficult. I'm well aware that the ending is very anti-climatic and I wish I had been able to advocate for my but I just shut down emotionally afterwards. I can't get too much into the details of the essay and attempted R word because, honestly, thinking about it makes me want to throw up, but I realized I was lucky

to be able to fight him off every time because without a doubt he wanted to hurt me. After this all happened, I started volunteering with people in prison for crimes like S.A. to try and prevent them for ever re-offending. I think it is my way for advocating for others because I couldn't advocate for myself. If you take one thing away from this,

stop being so polite. I was raised to be not. nice to everyone, and I realized now that being polite worsened everything. I wish I had never been polite enough to pick up drugs for my ex, or polite enough to let Mark into my apartment when he begged. So to Mark, fuck you, and please, let's not meet again. Help me, I'm lost. This is my first post and is a true story. I was living in a rural area in Oklahoma with my mother at a small lake house, and I'm probably 10 to 11 at this time. One night I'm sleeping in my room when I randomly and abruptly wake up for no reason. This is not normal for me, and I felt very

uneasy. The only sound I could hear was my mother snoring in the next room on the couch. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but my need to use the bathroom was growing more urgent, so I grudgeonly forced myself to head that way. The bathroom is on the other side of the house, around a corner and past the kitchen and finally down a long hallway on the right. So after I made the trip and finished my business, I flipped off the light switch and started heading back to bed. That's when I heard the distinct click of the light switch, and I saw the glow of the bathroom light in the hallway. Terrified, I slowly turned around just to witness the light in the bathroom and start clicking on and off. Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click.

Finally, it shut it completely off. In the dark of the hallway, my eyes began to make out a white shape near the end of the hall. It was around my size and crouched the floor. At this point, I'm frozen to the spot as my mind begins realizing that no one else is at home except for my mom and myself. Then the white shape began whispering in a quiet man's voice, Help me, I'm lost. I remember wanting to scream for my mom, but I couldn't.

And instead I barely said, no. Before this thing starts running at me on what sounded like all four, I quickly ran through the kitchen around the corner before running to my sleeping mother shaking her awake. Remember saying, it's coming, it's coming. My mother's eyes going from days to alert in an instant. She asked me what was going on and I saw her eyes look over my shoulder before she screamed. Remembering her scream still makes my blood run cold. Never had I heard pure terror like that in my life, even to this day.

She grabs me by the arms and pulls me into the room and slams the door. She holds me in her arms with her back pressed against the door as we listen. It sounded like this thing was running around in circles in the kitchen. We could hear its hands and feet slapping against the tile. The kitchen had a sliding glass door to the outside, which sounded like it was thrown open and then slammed. We sat there, horrified until daybreak. I was sent to my grandmother's in the next town for a while after that and never set foot in that house again. Years later, my mother said she went walking around the property after the incident.

and came across a small burial site with three headstones that each belonged to children from the early 1900s. It freaks me out because what I heard that night was a man's voice, but it was so unnatural. My mom still will not tell me what she saw behind me and what it was that made her scream. She tells me she's afraid it will know we're talking about it and it will come back. This is the first of many weird things that have happened in my life. A true, very creepy surveillance story. So first of all, I only just discovered this subreddit today, which reminded me of something that happened to me in 2008. This was a huge thing in my friends and family, and I didn't really talk about it back then as it scared the fuck out of me.

But it was a while ago and it is a really well-known creepy story among myself and my friends and family. But I think I may as well share it as it is admittedly terrifying. I was living with my parents and sister in Brisbane, Australia at the time, 2008, which means I was 19. I remember my dad had just got a fox tell, cable TV in Australia, but only the TV in the lounge room could use the cable box, and I really wanted to somehow get the cable in my room without paying $99 or whatever for a new box. So dad one day went out and bought an AV transmitter slash receiver. It was basically a two-piece bit of hardware where you could plug this tiny box into the cable TV in the lounge room and it would transmit a video signal to the receiver, connected to the TV in my room.

So one Saturday, I decided to connect it. This is a picture I took of this setup when I was telling a friend the story. My younger sister, 16 of the time, was the only other person home at the time, upstairs in her room. My room was downstairs. I opened the box and connected it up. At first, I was going back and forth, trying to get the cables right, trying to get the channel right, etc., but no luck until I finally got something. I remember just sitting there and something started fuzzling in.

This is where things start to feel like a horror movie. I remember thinking, oh, here we go. In waiting to see the picture coming in clearly. As it started fuzzling in, I remembered that this whole time the cable set top box wasn't even on. And that's why I wasn't working this whole time. But then why was I getting a signal? It seemed to all hit me at once. As I realized the box was off, the picture fuzzed in, and I saw a bed.

First picture I took. I freaked the fuck out. As at first I thought it was my bed. I had recently seen Saw 2 and remember that scene where she turns on the TV and it's a camera filming her in her own apartment. That was the first thing I thought of. I sprinted upstairs to my sister, absolutely terrified. I told her to come down and take a look. She came down and we both realized it wasn't my bed.

We didn't know whose bed it was or how I was getting the signal. Obviously it was the AV receiver picking up a camera signal, but we were just so confused. as to who slash what it was for. Eventually my parents came home and we concluded that it would have to be a neighbor or someone living close by for us to be receiving the signal. We waited around until about 6 p.m. and then someone came into the room. My dad recognized it as one of our neighbors. We still didn't know what the camera was for, but we assumed it had something to do with fidelity, either his wife or he had set it up to watch the other and see if they're cheating. Either this or it was to tape themselves having sex. We entertained the idea that he was a murderer and would film himself

murdering people in his room, but just to freak each other out. We'd always make jokes about how one night we'll turn it on, it'll just be a face with a clown makeup, staring at the camera waving, and then him walking to the bedroom with a knife. This never happened, but what did happen was still super creepy. We connected to the signal for over a week, but after a few days, the novelty kind of worn off. We felt a bit weird watching it and just reassigned to the explanation that it was to catch his wife cheating. Until one day, we turned it on and realized what we had discovered. Our neighbors were having a bunch of renovations done into their house.

During weekdays, they'd be out, and there would be workers at the place pretty much all day. It had been like this for over a month. We started watching the feed and saw a man walk into the room. It was the plumber that had been there regularly for the renovations. We didn't think anything of it until he started opening drawers. I called out to my mom, only person home at the time. and we started watching it. He started getting the wife's underpants and sniffing them,

doing all that creepy shit. At first we were like, oh my God, how embarrassing he's being filmed. Will the neighbors see this somehow? And then what happened next was truly terrifying. He slowly walks over to the camera and look right down the fucking lens. We were convinced that he knew we were watching.

Mom immediately called dad. I kept watching. He started feeling like the lean, with it and then put it back down. I told Mom that I don't think he knew we were watching, but he's definitely the guy that put the camera there. Dad came home, and by this time the plumber had left, much to Mom's pleading. Dad went over to the neighbors to tell them what we saw. Mom wanted to completely stay out of it and was terrified, understandably. When we told the neighbors, they had no idea what we were talking about. They allowed Dad to go up to their room. And what we

found that was holding the camera, was an installed device in the wall that was designed to monitor water usage, which was completely normal at the time as Brisbane had been hit with a drought recently, there were lots of water restrictions, still as now, I think. The plumber had installed this into the wall, but had fitted a camera behind it in the wall to watch the bed. Immediately, they called the police who came over and conducted an investigation. For the next week or so, we didn't hear much about it. I spent most of this time just telling my friends, showing them pictures, but truthfully, my whole family was scared every night. It was just very creepy thinking that we could have stuff like that hidden in our house.

Chances are we didn't, but it was still really scary. After a couple of weeks, my mom was speaking to the wife next door and asked what happened with it all. The wife said that the police found out he would at nights come to our street and sit in his car, which had really tinted windows and watched them on his laptop. When mom told me this, I got the biggest shivers. The reason was, besides the obvious of a creepy dude, sitting in his car watching people through a hidden camera, was because on multiple nights, when I had driven home late from

the girlfriend's house or walked home drunk after a night out, I remember seeing a station wagon. Don't know if that's what they're called outside of Australia, but it's like a big hatchback car. Always about 30 meters down the street from our house. It was never there during the day, always a night. I'd always walk past it and look at my reflection in the windows, assuming no one was inside. I was always so confused by whose car it was, but literally never thought it was anything. It still scared me so much that it was just this creepy fucking plumber sitting back in there on a laptop, watching a hidden camera stream of my neighbors.

Anyway, that's my story. It's all true. And still creeps me out to this day. But my friends and I have a good laugh about it. Home Alone. True Story. While growing up, I often had opportunities to stay home alone when I was younger, since my mother and father were forced to travel because their parents were ill and lived overseas,

and my much older siblings wouldn't get off work until at least an hour or two after I finished school. I was used to being home alone and actually enjoyed it. One Saturday, when I was 12, my parents had to go to a funeral for an old friend in the next city. My brother had already moved out by then, and my sister was nowhere to be found, so my parents decided to leave me home alone for the entire day. I was so excited being home alone for a whole day, and took a blast music, and spend as much time as I wanted it on the computer. When my brother moved out, we converted his bedroom,

the last one at the end of the hallway, into an office, and my computer was in there. We still had dial-up internet at the time, so my parents added an extra phone line in the house, so I would stop taking up their line. I ran into the office as he used what I called my personal phone line to call my friend who lived a few streets over to see if she wanted to come hang out.

She was really upset. She told me she was having boyfriend problems and needed someone to talk to, so she'd be right over. I thought to myself, girl talk means we need a good treat and ran into the office so that I could go check out what was in the kitchen. That's when I saw her. A pale woman dressed all in black with a black bun on her head. Her head tilted as I ran by the corner. I couldn't really see her eyes, but for some reason, I remember thinking that she was smiling. I got some serious chills and felt instantly frozen. but I ignored it, thinking I was paranoid from being alone all day and ran down the stairs. I couldn't believe my imagination was playing tricks on itself like that. I called my friend to see if she had left yet, and since no one answered the phone at her house,

I figured she had. Something still didn't feel right, so I put on my jacket and headed out of the driveway to wait for her. When she arrived, she asked me what I was doing outside. I said, something weird just happened, but I'll tell you over white hot chocolate. And we went inside, took off our coats, and drank her hot chocolate. in the kitchen while she told me about her problems she was having with her boyfriend. Since both her boyfriend and I had webcams, we knew we had friends over, we went into my computer room upstairs to call him and see if him and his friends wanted to web chat with us. While she was on the phone

of them, I was talking to his friend on the computer and sending up my webcam. While my friend was on the phone, she turned around and looked out the door into the hallway. She told her boyfriend that she'd have to call him back. She looked at me, wide-eyed and white face. and said, There's a woman in your hallway wearing a black dress. I got off from my computer chair and closed the door without looking to the hallway. I frantically tried to remember if I had told her why I was outside when she got there. I then asked her, didn't I mention that when you got here?

And she said no. And I said, how was her hair? My friend said, in a bun. We both freaked out, opened the door, made sure the clothes was clear, and bolted down the stairs. I called my parents and told them I was going to my friend's house, but they told me they were a few minutes away and insisted that I wasn't leaving the house. When they got home, I told them what happened, but they didn't believe me. For the next few days, I kept thinking I was seeing her, but I wasn't sure if it was my imagination

because I was scared or because she was really there. Weird things happened to, like the calendar my bedroom would be upside down when I got home from school, or things would go missing from my room. Eventually, these weird occurrences stopped, but a couple of months later, we adopted a two-year-old cat. From the moment she was brought home all the way up to today, she has three or four random corners of the house that she meows at constantly, and every once in a while, after meowing at a particular spot, she shrieks and runs away as fast as she can. One of those spots is in my bedroom, and lately, she's been meowing at it every night.

The Marketplace Deal that almost trapped me. I was browsing marketplace when I came across an ad for an SUV, a Saturn view in great condition, but here's the kicker. It was priced at about 50% below market value. I thought, this has to be a scam, but curiosity got the better of me. The ad had a phone number, so I called it. A young guy picked up, sounding friendly enough, and went on about how the vehicle was in perfect shape. When I asked why he was selling it, he mumbled something about wanting something sportier. Yeah, right, I thought, but I was intrigued enough to agree to go check it out. That's when things got weird.

He insisted I bring cash, a dark feeling crept over me, a warning sign, but I brushed it off, I had the money, and against my better judgment, I bought it. As I drove to the address he'd given me, that uneasy feeling turned into full-blown dread. I was literally seconds away from pulling him to the house when I called him again to confirm. His first question, do you have cash? My gut twisted, I answered yes, but something told me not to park and in front of the house. Instead, I parked a block up the street and decided to wait. I sat there for a few minutes looking around. There was no Saturn view in sight, no signs of any vehicle

for sale. The street was eerily quiet, almost too still. Then, out of nowhere, a white Audi station wagon slowed down in front of the house. Inside, I saw a group of young men, all of them scanning the area. They looked tense, on edge, as if they were searching for someone or something. They didn't spot me, tucked away further up the street. I watched as they crept slowly past the house, their eyes darting around, until they finally drove past me. They didn't suspect I was sitting there with a fat envelope of cash. I could feel my heart pounding as I watched them drive away.

It all felt wrong, very wrong. My gut had been screaming at me from the start, but now I knew this wasn't about a car. This was about setting someone up for something much worse. I drove home, feeling both ashamed that I let it get the start. as far and grateful that nothing had happened yet. Later, I contacted the police. I gave them the ad number, the phone number, and told them exactly what had happened. I insisted they'd do something before someone got hurt.

Days passed, and to my knowledge, they did nothing. Then the news broke. Story after story surfaced of people being lured by ads, just like the one I saw, told to bring cash, only to be threatened with guns or knives and robbed of their money. No descriptions of the perpetrators were ever given. just vague warnings telling people to be careful. Even now, I wonder what might have happened if I had pulled up to that house. What if I had ignored my gut feeling completely and walked right into whatever they had planned?

All I know is, sometimes a great deal, isn't worth the risk. Trust your gut. And all right, guys, that wraps up 10 unspeakable true scary stories. I really hope you enjoyed. Leave your comments down below on what you'd like to see improved or changed. I appreciate you all. Thanks for watching to the end. Much love. And this was Snook and see you next time.